Mortified.

I can't remember the last time I was this nervous in front of an audience. The lights hit my face and I felt my cheeks get red and then became embarrassed about my cheeks getting red; which probably made them redder. But once I began reading and realized the material was more funny than horrific, things got better. It was a fun night for all involved.

I told Vito I'd be reading a little bit about him so he, being a self proclaimed narcissist, and his girlfriend Claire were there.

Vito: Ah thanks for reminding me how little, or no, action I got in high school. Also, Claire doesn't believe me when I tell her I had really bad skin in high school. Wasn't it bad?

Sarah: Yeah it was bad.

And later,

Vito: I feel like I'm the only one who can really appreciate your journal entries. The point of view comes from such an old, traditional, Midwest, Catholic guilt, kind of place. I don't think the Catholic schools are as bad out here.

Claire seemed to disagree so we began to rattle off stories from high school. If the priests and nuns had their way we would have ended these stories with 'I learned a lot about life' or 'I feel morally stronger because of this' but most of them ended in 'And then it was confusing' or 'The world was screwed up' or 'It kept me from talking to the opposite sex.'

Claire: Yeah...it's not that bad here.

August 7th. 70 degrees and sunny. 7 days into the move.

I forgot to 'un-zoom' the camera before I took this picture. I'm 99% sure 'un-zoom' is not a word.

Happy Mistake.

Things currently in my purse:

Chapstick

Camera
Camera Battery Charger
White Sox sock hat
Ipod
Ipod Charger
Bottle of water
Cell Phone
Cell Phone Charger
Gloves

I'm prepared to be stuck on a cold desert island with a power outlet.

This morning Jackie, Stacey P., Doug, and I went out to breakfast. Jackie just got back from a weeklong retreat where she did yoga everyday and took organic cooking classes based in the philosophy of yoga.

Jackie: It's common sense but basically you should try to eat things that are closer to the earth and give up foods made in a lab. Like that syrup your using? It tastes good, but not really from the earth. The hot sauce is closer to the earth than that.

And speaking of giving up, I haven't smoked in 7 days. I hesitate to say I've quit, but I'm not planning on smoking tomorrow...that's about as far ahead as I can think. I've heard that it takes 21 days to break a habit so I'm 1/3 of the way there.

I have been trying to eat better too, but Sunday breakfast will always remain the same; full of cholesterol, caffeine, and condiments made in a lab. I can only give up so much.

Doug has been offered the job on cruise ship. He'll be a singer in a 'musical style review' and he's leaving in four weeks....for eight months.

I will miss him.

Look what I found at the Harvard Bookstore.

This dog was extremely friendly considering its size. I kept looking around for his owner but no one seemed to be paying attention or even noticing the fact that a dog was running in between the bookshelves. For a brief second I hoped that no one would claim him and I could put him in my pocket and take him home.

Finally he barked and an old woman at the counter scolded him for being so loud. He looked back at me and then hobbled away, nails clicking on the cement floor, in the opposite direction of his owner.

Bought my very first battery powered toothbrush. I'm soooooooo 2008.

Today I did some temp work at an educational company that makes college textbooks. With little to do, and no internet access I decided to leaf through one of the textbooks. Here is an excerpt from 'College Writers':

"Journal writing suffers when you let someone, in your mind, look over your shoulder. Honesty wilts when a parent, teacher, or friend looms up in your imagination to discourage you from putting your true thoughts on the page. Keep your notebooks with the abandon of one who will know his words will go up in smoke."

As a teenager I was very careful to keep my journals out of view knowing that people in my family had a penchant for snooping. I would only use a hiding place in my bedroom for about a month before paranoia would set in, forcing me to find another hiding place. At the time it seemed genius so I wasn't hesitant to write with the abandon of one who knows her words will go up in smoke. In one journal I mentioned that I wanted to be buried with my journals so no one would ever see them.

On my 22nd birthday my Grandma had the family over for dinner. My gift from her was a blank journal. I thanked her and she mentioned that she knew how much I liked to journal in the past. This led to a very frank conversation with my aunts. They revealed to me that not only did my grandmother read every single page of my journal when I left for school each day; she would call Julie, Peggy, and Beth and read it to them.

I decided some time ago that I'd rather be cremated than buried. Maybe when that day comes someone will toss my journals in with me and we can go up in smoke together.

But before that happens, I'll be sharing some of my journal entries to a room full of strangers in a show called Mortified. If you'd like to come and watch me sweat my way through it please feel free.

www.getmortified.com

One thing all i.O. teams have in common is that eventually they will be cut from the schedule. Some come to a natural end, having the performers move on to other projects, and some are cut before they are ready.

Today Psychoplasmics got cut from the schedule. I didn't get the sense that everyone on the team was ready, but they were together for over a year. I'd guess that the average shelf life of a team is about 6-8 months. I'm proud that the team lasted so long and that I was able to play with them for as long as I did.

A cut team usually has one more show on the schedule; a final goodbye so friends and family can see them perform one last time and the team members can get some closure. Unfortunately some teams do not have a last show and are put to rest like a john doe in an unmarked grave.

As it turns out Psychoplasmics did not have a 'last show.' In fact, their last show was the one I performed in. I've gotten a few emails from people on the team saying that my presence was bad luck and ultimately led to their demise. They are joking of course, but it's possible that my bad luck with electronics has bled into other parts of my life...who knows.

Here's a picture of Doug. You know, for the fans.

Doug: I had the best audition ever today, for a cruise ship. I'd be performing a few shows a week, but they would also want me to do other jobs. Like greeting passengers or working in the library. I'm not too excited about that. We'll see what happens.

Seeing Doug succeed makes me very happy for him, but the idea of him leaving Boston...well I'm sure you can imagine.

Alison came over this afternoon to watch the Bears game. She also moved from Chicago to Boston to work at the Theater, for the touring company.

So we ordered pizza and wings, and got under blankets (it was freezing) wearing our vintage Bears shirts and pajama pants, (Alison: This shirt is from 1985, I sent it to a friend when he moved to Tokyo so he could represent the midwest, but I had him send it back to me when I moved to Boston. Now he wants it back. No way.) and set our cell phones on the table, anticipating the many celebratory texts and phone calls we would recieve.

We yelled a lot, (I feel much less crazy when I have someone to yell with) received lots of phone calls, (Alison on the phone to her father: Dad Reggie Bush scored. Make them take that back. Why are you drinking Harvey Wallbangers?) and celebrated.

Go Bears.

I took this picture in August, about a month after I bought my camera.
The mirror wall in the airport caught my eye and I got excited to snap some photos. I remember thinking, "Ooo...I bet these are going to be some really neat pictures," and feeling happy about my new hobby, and daydreaming about getting really good at taking photos. It was an adventure.

Since the camera broke the wind has been taken out of my sails and I barely take pictures now. When I do, all I can think is, "Ugh...this picture is probably going to be washed out and I hope it's not blurry."

With the post holiday winter blues setting in I begin to feel similarly about my move to Boston.

I’ve settled into comfortable habits and a schedule. I have a favorite take out place, I can give ambling tourists directions, I say hello to my neighbors by name. These are things that make me feel more secure but...in general I thought I'd be happier. Does everyone go through this when they move?

Looking at this picture makes me feel very sad.

For the last thirty minutes I've been tring to think of a way to sum up this entry, but honestly I don't know how. Maybe something about things being blurry now, or that there is a possibility that I feel happier among newness, but I just don't know. I'm tired. Ugh, Spring get here quick.

Harry and Brian D. catch up on their celebrity gossip during intermission.

Uh oh. I may have done something wrong.

During my birthday party someone had mentioned this blog. Jesse's ears perked up and he wanted to know more, specifically if I had mentioned him. I told him I had and he said he'd check it out.

Jesse (via text): You make me sound like a blubbering idiot but otherwise good work.

Arnie had said eventually I'd alienate people with the blog, that it came with the territory. Since then I've had more than one person say they are not exactly happy with my portrayal of them, including Arnie, but it comes with the territory, right?

But I felt horrible after I got Jesse's text. It would be an understatement to say that I've been protective of him. In fact, I attribute our lack of closeness as teenagers to my maniacal idea that it was my job to make sure he was ok at all times. Once in college I became too self involved to hover over Jesse and eventually distance, time, and adulthood in general closed the gap between us...I hope. Cause I still worry...a little...I hope he's ok...maybe I should call him...crap.

Me (via text): I think it just makes you sound like a caring boyfriend. Didn't mean to hurt your feelings.

Had an audition tonight. The project requires that I read entries from my high school journal. The idea is pretty funny, but reading the journal made me shudder and squirm, like I was trying to shake off my teenage skin.

This journal (the one with puffy glitter paint...Jesus) is filled with stories about Liam. I told him a few months back about this project and asked him if sharing these very personal entries about our melodramatic relationship would bother him. He said no, but his only requirement was that if I got cast, he wanted me to email him the journal entries.

Well, I got cast. Time to send that email. (shudder)

It's safe to say that I'm in love with the new giant TV. I didn't know football could get awesomer, but it has.

So Sunday I woke up, put on my Walter Payton shirt (that is older than me, I think), got some coffee, and planted myself on the couch to watch the Bears game.

I was home alone. There was a lot of yelling. My apartment building is old and the walls are paper thin. After a while I decided to be quiet and see if I could hear yelling from other apartments, thinking that maybe there was another Bears fan in the building. It was silent.

Later in the evening, while teaching class at the theater, the Patriots beat the Chargers. While explaining the idea of 'high and low status' to the students a surge of screaming could be heard outside. The students stopped listening and looked toward the street. So we took a break and they ran outside, got on their cell phones to get the stats from friends, or ran across the street to the bar to catch a glimpse of what happened, and celebrate with fellow Patriots fans.

Tonight Doug hosted a party to watch the season premiere of 24.

Doug: Oh god, my two favorite things. 24 and wine. This is awesome.

He also made some appetizers which included some small egg rolls. As the show started I bit into one and realized it tasted a little bit like shrimp, which I'm allergic to. So as everyone sat on the edge of their seat watching the show, I was preoccupied with my own personal drama, counting to 100 to calm down, swallowing periodically to make sure my throat wasn't closing up, and feeling my forehead to make sure I wasn't breaking out in hives.

It turned out the egg rolls were made of crab.

After the show Doug wanted to play 24 the board game, but everyone left. It turned out more than half of the guests had never seen 24 and just came for the food and wine.

It looks like we have a visitor in the Greenroom.

Jeremy noticed the lid to the snack box wasn't closed. He opened it and found tiny bit marks in some of the food. A mouse (or rat) had climbed up the refrigerator, into the snack box, and eaten through some chocolate silver dollars.

Jeremy: I'm going to throw this all away.

Me: Can I take a picture of it before you do?

Jeremy: Are you serious? This is the highlight of your day? We really need to find you a hobby or something.

Look who also bought themselves a giant TV for Christmas. That's right, Callahan did. He also learned how to run the computer into the TV so we could catch up on episodes of Lost from CBS.com.

Callahan: Sarah we are a house of technology now. We are sooooo 2008.

And later our new roommate Weiss came home. He mentioned that he's never met Paulie or tried any of his home cooking. Callahan decided the best way to introduce Paulie was to look up my blog (displayed on the giant TV of course) and read it to Weiss, in character. It was both creepy and very funny to hear my words coming out of his mouth, but in fairness he does a much better Paulie impression than I do.

There are times when I think that having a long distance relationship is a blessing. After I moved Arnie became pretty busy with work and various projects at the same time. I of course got busy with my new job at the theater. Had we been in the same city I bet there would have been a few 'we don't see each other enough' conversations but distance eliminates those arguments and certainly frees up time.

So the project Arnie was working on is finally online. It's a pilot webisode on NBC's Dotcomedy site. Here's a link.

http://www.dotcomedy.com/cs/Satellite?c=DCVideo&childpagename=DotComedy%2FDCLayout&cid=1156354486978&packedargs=channel%3DDigital%2BShows%26channelid%3D1154010052509&pagename=DCWrapper

And yes, although the above sentiments are true, this is a shameless plug disguised as a pondering about life.

New year, new calendar.

I enjoy the ritual of taking down the old calendar, looking through it to see what I did all year, carefully writing in birthdays with a colored pen, and hanging up the new calendar while wondering where I will be and what I'll be doing when I do this again a year from now.

I got back in town yesterday afternoon just in time for a four hour stage combat class for the actors at the theater.

Stacy (a man named Stacy) and Ted, who have been performing and teaching stage combat longer than I've been alive, taught the class.

Ted kept reminding us that realistic stage combat is almost impossible in the round (which our theater is) and that it's done best on film, just serving as a reminder that none of us are getting film or commercial work right now.

He also was not above letting us know how many Shakespeare shows he's been a part of. Every new move came with an elaborate story.

Ted: Please be careful if your punch has arc. When I was doing 'a Mid Summer Night's Dream' in New York my partner dislocated my jaw with this punch.

He also loved referencing the Lord of the Rings movies.

Ted: Adding sound to your combat is very important and make sure that you are adding and NOT adding sound at the right time. When Frodo and Sam see the mountain about to burst in Helm's Deep you hear them 'aaAAAHHH' then pause, THEN it explodes. Had they not paused the explosion would have been drowned out. Use your voice and the earth to help you.

Now I know how hard I can be punched in the stomach before it hurts. It's a lot harder than I had expected.

In the end we came away with a lot of new moves, but a little bit of knowledge can be dangerous. I'm 99% certain that someone is going to get accidentally punched during the shows and when it happens I hope I have my camera ready.

My plant, Blagen Phosphorus the III, is named after a street in Boston. I'm also planning on adopting a pet or two which have already been named after other Boston streets. Arnie thought I should name the bear after a street in Chicago, which I did, but I just call him bear.

Bear and I flew back to Boston this morning.

It was a good trip home.

Last night Cowlick performed in the Chicago Sketchfest. Their show was a revised version of the show we did last year. Half the show is the same, half is new, and I’m not in it; although I did serve as an audience plant and do a quick walk on during the show which was very fun.

Afterwards I asked Arnie what he thought. He enjoyed the show actually more than he did last year. I agreed.

I couldn’t help but wonder if my absence had some thing to do with the improvement of the show. I think it’s natural to wonder...but not for too long. Right? Right.

Afterwards we went out for Mexican food and ate oursleves into a coma.

Last night I showed up late to the bar and Matt H., Rob, Sean, and Pete were already there.

Sean: How do you show up to your own party late? What were you doing?

Me: Nothing actaully. I was just at home.

We went through i.O. classes together and started talking about where everyone from our class is.

Sean: Did you know that only seven people from our level are still performing at i.O.? About 50 people graduated.

And later we discussed feeling old.

Sean: I went to i.O for New Years and I looked around and didn't know anyone. That's when I knew....

In all honesty, the conversation was much better than this, and it was great to see the guys but for the life of me I can't extract any part of the conversation to comment on or compare to my move.

It was just good to see them.

Today is Arnie's birthday.

It's also the Saturday closest to my birthday. A while back we had discussed having a 'joint birthday party' but never did anything about it. As today approached he sent out an email to his friends letting them know that he would be celebrating his birthday at this bar. I sent out the same email...for my birthday party.

The bar was also a restaurant, so the room was split in half, separated by an open wall. For the most part Arnie and his friends stayed on one side, and I stayed on the other with my friends.

So I didn't take any pictures of Arnie on his birthday, because I never really saw him. In fact, this is a picture he took of himself. If you look in the background you can see me, on the other side of the wall, talking to Shelby.

A picture from Arnie and Young's New Years Party.

Before arriving, Shelby and Joe went to a ceremony at a Buddhist Temple. Shelby couldn't remember what it was called, but at the ceremony they meditated and then wrote down their 'defilements' (I guess Buddhists don't believe in sin, so they call them defilements) of the year and burned them. They both seemed to enjoy it but Shelby said she couldn't help falling asleep during meditation. Afterwards they went out for margaritas.

Today I turned 27.

Today Mary Beth and I went to get manicures and pedicures. Afterwards we went to lunch which included an ice cream sundae and bloody marys. They don't mix well but I had a great time.

At night Arnie took me out to dinner. All in all it was a quiet birthday that mostly consisted of a lot of birthday emails, text messages, and voicemails. A few people enjoyed reminding me that I'm 'getting older' or that I'm simply 'old' but these people were all older than me.

Arnie: It's the older people that think it's funny. Younger people wouldn't tell you you're old because they actually think your old and it might hurt your feelings.

I haven't decided if it's a good or bad that when I think about 'adult' things it makes me feel like I'm 12.

Happy Birthday to me.

More shows!

Tonight I got to perform with my old i.O. team, Psychoplasmics.

Me: So what's new guys? Gimme the dirt!

Dayna: I got taller.

A lot has happened since I've been gone. Mike W. (not pictured) got engaged, Dayna (on the left) bought a condo and got a new job, and Brian G. (not pictured) got married.

Me: How's married life?

Brian G: It's awesome. Now when I meet people and don't like them, I can be like 'Hey! You're an asshole!' and I don't care CAUSE I GOT A PARTNER! That's right. I have someone to go home to.

At the end of the night I wanted to take a team picture, but I'm still using my shattered camera, so I don't know when the battery is low. It ran out of batteries right after I took this picture of Dayna, Tristan, and George. George usually has his eyes open, and doesn't always point to himself.

Drinks with Kara and Jana.

Jana has been cutting my hair for oh, four years, and has been cutting Arnie's hair for a year. It think it's still strange for Arnie to have his hair cut by my friend because he feels the need to be formal with her while the actual cutting is going on and informal because it's my friend. Jana senses this, so they usually start talking about his blog, which she is a big fan of. On a side note: I am a fan of run on sentences.

Jana: I really want to become friends with Arnie.

Me: You should! I'm sure he'd like that too.

And later Arnie joined us.

Jana: I'm going to talk to Arnie and we are totally going to become BFFs.

So she and Arnie sat on the other side of the bar and talked for quite some time.

Me: What did you talk about?

Jana: His hair.

Happy New Year.

Today Arnie and I noticed that a store front near his house was being turned into some sort of office. We didn't know what it was going to be, but there were computers, desks, and a newly painted accent wall in a 'let's stay awake and vibrant so we get more work done' neon orange.

On the door is an old handle that says 'Salada Tea.' I've always liked it, and worried that if this is going to be a 'respectable' business the owners might take it off and replace it with something more modern.

So I devised a plan. I'm going to leave a note for the owners letting them know that I like the sign/handle/thing and if they are going to get rid of it, I would take it. I'd leave my number, or maybe a day and time that I would come back, or Arnie's address so they could leave it there.

I don't know what I would do with it. Most likely it would sit in a corner of my apartment forever. But the idea that it would thrown away makes me sad, maybe someone was really proud of this little kitschy thing they put up and it was just going to be thrown away and forgotten.

I never left a note.